


cable car sunrise

by kurapikano



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: 40s AU, Alternate Universe - Historical, Gen, and yes the scarlet eyes are still a thing, bc he deserves better, characters will be added to tags as they come into play, it's wack, kurta massacre still happened i am so sorry, orphaned and confused? pick a struggle boys, pairo content for the intelligent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:33:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26156563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurapikano/pseuds/kurapikano
Summary: On his 18th birthday, Kurapika sneaks himself and his best friend, Pairo, out of the orphanage they've been stuck in ever since the tragedy that found them parentless. Together, they embark on a journey to find somewhere else to belong, but there's a certain danger in wandering aimlessly.-40s AU.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> "where on god's earth is the memento mori update?"
> 
> well, dear reader, that is a work in progress for when my brain decides to stop being mean to me. also, this has been in the works! i'm a history buff, and a sucker for historical settings, so i present a 40s au of two little kurtas trying to find somewhere new to settle.
> 
> stay tuned for an update to mm - it'll come as soon as i can manage, my friends. for now, enjoy this prologue!

"Are you sure we should be doing this? I mean, Miss Bennett could wake up, and-"

"Shh, Pairo - she _will_ if you keep talking!"

Kurapika deftly tucked _For Whom the Bell Tolls_ and _The Little Prince_ into his slightly worn satchel, along with a few pairs of clothes. The rest of his belongings were already wrapped up in a large sheet with rope to seal it shut, a knot tied securely so as to not lose any valuables. He wasn't sure exactly what Pairo was packing, but, as he turned his head, he saw the slightly younger boy put in a few photographs.

Kurapika's heart sank - he knew they were photos of his parents.

As the ruby drop earring swayed with the movement of his head before being concealed behind golden locks, tawny brown eyes still adjusting to the darkness, he recalled that that very earring had belonged to his mother. In this moment, on the 5th of May after his eighteenth birthday, he was about to tug Pairo along and run away from this orphanage, in search of something better. It was nearing dawn - about four o'clock in the morning, it was - and the sky was still dark enough to conceal them. But, now, thinking of his mother, Kurapika felt his stomach flip, and he wondered if this is what she would have wanted for him. Was he doing the right thing to leave?

His gaze locked on Pairo's brunette hair as it moved when the seventeen year old topped his head with a flat cap, and, in that moment, Kurapika decided he was in the right.

If Pairo didn't have to have another birthday here, then it was worth it.

·  
·  
·

By the time they had managed to sneak out of the building - quite easily, really, as it was one story and rather silent in its build - the sun was just beginning to pull up over the horizon. Kurapika grasped Pairo's hand with the only free one he had, tugging him down an alley that would eventually lead to the main part of the city.

Between brick buildings, a few stray cats prowled about, snatching up rats between their teeth and claws and mewling at the boys as they jogged by. Pairo seemed amused by the little felines, a smile on his face - Kurapika was sure he heard a murmured "I wish we could take you with us."

Perhaps it was the feeling of relating to the orphaned pets that made his chest ache.

Whatever it was, it led him and Pairo to be sitting on the ground in the alley, letting the kittens that peeked out from behind a dumpster crawl onto their laps and snuggle close. Normally, Kurapika might have commented about how they could have an illness, but, out of pity and admiration, he kept quiet, gently stroking a grey and white one with the softest of touches.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," Pairo said, tone only half-joking. "I might get attached. I feel bad about them being alone."

Come to think of it, Kurapika hadn't spotted a mother. "Yeah," he mumbled, suddenly feeling much worse about it. "I wonder if there's a shelter nearby. Or maybe just someone willing to take them in. There has to be, right? No way is there not a shelter in a place with so many strays."

Pairo shrugged, moving to peek out past the wall. "We can look. Or...you can look."

This was no rude remark - Pairo was blind, and the best of his vision was nothing more than shadows and highlights, with silhouettes. Sound was all he really relied on easily, but Kurapika wasn't sure how one could possibly hear an animal shelter, if it was too far away.

"Right. But it is we, because I'm not leaving you by yourself," Kurapika insisted, standing up and hefting the little kitten into his arms. Pairo followed suit, two in his - one orange, and one calico. He wondered briefly if these kittens were even related - perhaps they were simply a band of misfits, orphaned one way or another. In that, he felt a sense of kinship, and his resolve to find them a better place became stronger. So, with confident steps forward, Kurapika led the way, Pairo close behind.

In the light of the dawn, a few clunking automobiles made their way through the city, the sidewalks beginning to bustle for the time of day everyone began to head to work. The day was young, being born fresh from the shroud of the clouds after the moon's hefty reign over the night, and the golden light of sunrise was cast upon every peak it could reach. Kurapika thought it quite beautiful - a new beginning was coming through the turbulent past, and it was a comforting thought.

Such a comforting thought, in fact, that he hardly noticed the sign swinging above a neatly kept door that served to signal their next stop.

Kurapika put his hand out and stopped Pairo's tread forward, and two pairs of brown eyes flickered to the wooden carved sign, only one of them able to make out the clean writing.

_Yorkshire Animal Shelter._

Perhaps finding a place to belong would be as easy for the two of them, as well.


	2. clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A satisfied sigh slipped partially chapped lips, and he leaned his cheek on his upper arm.
> 
> "We're alive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome back! midnight updates go brrrr.
> 
> also, note: kurapika is still a bit like his canon childhood self, due to some of the tragedy being spared. so, expect a bit more recklessness and talkativeness, #letpikabehappy2020

The inside of the animal shelter was simple and sweet, seeming more methodical than anything. Really, it almost felt like a vet's office - the walls were plain ivory with a few sage details, and some plants draping on high shelves. It was neat and tidy, and the perfectionist in Kurapika appreciated that.

"The vet's office is down the street, boys."

He and Pairo turned their heads, although Pairo was a tad off on placement - relying on the sound of a voice alone wasn't quite as foolproof as sight, but he was fairly well off on accuracy. It got better daily, which would...probably be useful.

"Oh, no, we're not looking for a vet," the younger piped up, "We found strays. They're kittens...I think. They feel small. Kurapika, are they kittens?"

Kurapika hummed in affirmation. "I'm pretty sure. They're too little to be full grown."

As if on cue, a tiny mewl came from the calico, and Pairo giggled.

The woman who had spoken was of short stature, dark blonde hair falling neatly just above her shoulders. Green eyes peered from behind glasses, and she sighed, nodding and placing her hands on her hips. "Right. Excuse me, then - too many people wander in with some idea that shelters and vets are the same thing."

Kurapika snuck a look at her nametag - _Cheadle Yorkshire._

"Well," he began, hoisting the one in his arms upwards. "I think they were probably born in the alley. There wasn't a parent in sight, though, so they might be totally alone."

"Might be?"

"I don't think they have anyone, I mean. They were by themselves."

The woman hummed thoughtfully, before patting a counter. "Alright, set them here." She looked at Pairo, then, raising a brow. "Did you see any adult cats?"

A pause fell in the room.

"..I'm blind, miss."

"..Right. Pardon me."

•  
•  
•

After some time, the kittens had been settled in - Pairo had been a touch sad to leave them - and the pair set back on their way. The day was still very young, and morning bustle was beginning to sweep the town, a multitude of people walking the sidewalks and driving down the roads of the city. Kurapika held fast to Pairo's hand, God forbid he get lost or trampled by a crowd, and they weaved their way through the rush hour, every minute until the end of it seeming to sap by like molasses.

"You know," Pairo began, nose wrinkled, "I don't know how far we'll get in a day if we go by foot. Besides, isn't that a lot of energy? We'll wear ourselves out and end up passed out a few miles from here, and get tossed somewhere else. That would really make this kind of pointless, besides the getting to go out and about."

"I already have a plan," Kurapika groaned, glaring at some rude stranger who had stepped on the back of his shoe without apologizing, "I'm not going back there, and neither are you. I'm going to make this work."

"Is it gonna be another crazy plan that risks at least two of our basic human needs?"

"No, it's gonna be another crazy plan that risks all of our basic human needs."

"That's not comforting at all."

"I didn't say that would happen yet. I was going to do something else, like.."

Out of the corner of his eye, Kurapika caught sight of a cable car about to embark through the city, surely to deliver people to work. Immediately diverting their path, Pairo half-choked on his own saliva.

"Where are you going now?"

"Not important. Just follow me, and jump when I tell you to."

"I don't like the way that sounds at all. That's horrible."

"My plans always work, so go with it!"

"Oh, man.."

With that last exasperated remark from his very trusting, very confident friend, Kurapika took off towards the back of the cable car, still somewhat clear with enough space for two teenage boys. Of course, he would never admit that his plan wholly relied on that, but...it did, that was for sure.

Pairo hated it when he was reckless, but Kurapika was certain it had gotten them success at least ninety-per-cent of the time. The former might have argued that, but, the way Kurapika saw it, Pairo was just too careful.

Nearing the back, he heard the vehicle start up, and, as soon as it began to move ever so slowly, he tugged Pairo's hand and leaped.

"Now!"

With a gasp of breath, the younger jumped as well, holding that very breath until he felt steady ground beneath his feet and his fingers curled around a pole.

"Haha! I told you it would work."

Pairo sighed, bonking his head against the cool metal and pursing his lips. "That's not the worst plan you've ever had, but it gave me the most anxiety. You couldn't have just said we were going to jump onto a...what are we on?"

"A cable car."

"Oh, okay, thank you.

Silence filtered through the wind in their hair.

"..You couldn't have just said we were going to jump onto a cable car?"

"No, because you would have said it's too dangerous, or something. Now, I only have to deal with the aftermath bit where you tell me how bad that could have been, instead of focusing on it going well."

If he could, Kurapika was sure Pairo would have given him a look, but, instead, a groan left him.

"Yeah, well, it could have been bad. You can only get lucky so many times, you know! I know you only live once, but you're gonna mess that up if you keep trying to kill us."

Kurapika just shook his head, tawny brown eyes rolling in exasperation. "But we're _alive_ , Pairo. The wind's in your face, the sun is warm, the car is rolling down the tracks - we're alive."

Arms leisurely wrapped around the pole, he leaned to the side, looking at the sky that was slowly turning blue. The clouds were puffed perfectly into the sky, and the buildings seemed to nearly scrape them, the murmurs of conversation barely reaching his ears.

A satisfied sigh slipped partially chapped lips, and he leaned his cheek on his upper arm.

"We're alive."


	3. kinship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pair travels along the cable car line, and then arrives at a bookstore, where they encounter two people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who's back back again
> 
> 40s slang to know:  
> dead hoofer - bad dancer  
> ragging - gossiping/making fun  
> cold fish - boring person/buzzkill  
> crummy - poor quality/distasteful  
> chrome dome - bald person  
> taking a powder - leaving

The cable car clunked down the tracks at a steady pace, metal glinting in the crowning sun. The lull of conversation drawled on as people woke from the sleepiness of the dawn,  _ He Hadn't Up Till Yesterday  _ by Sophie Tucker playing briefly in Kurapika's ears as they passed by a large cafe with a fuzzy radio. It was an older song, released in 1928, he recalled. Now, it was April of 1944, and he fondly remembered getting  _ The Little Prince  _ by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry as a late birthday gift last year, late into the throes of spring. This year, he was newly eighteen years old — properly grown, he thought — and wouldn't be getting anything from the wretched orphanage to beg his good favor. That was fine — he didn't need anything. Getting out of there with Pairo in tow was more important to him, and he was plenty satisfied.

"It's nice out today," Pairo spoke up, mumbling fondly with his cheek pressed against his arm. It was true; spring was dancing in beautifully, the trees sprouting leaves and the sun staying out longer. For Pairo, it was likely more of the feel of the weather.

"It's a perfect day for a birthday. It probably looks nice, too."

"It does," Kurapika confirmed, gaze floating about before it landed on an awful hoot of a sight, and he cackled.

Pairo stood more alert, a brow quirking. "What?"

"You shoulda seen the guy I just saw dancing on the sidewalk. A real dead hoofer," he snickered, "Looked like a fish out of water."

Pairo broke into little laughs, too, before an old man in a suit turned his head to glare at them.

"Quit ragging and bein' so loud this early in the morning," he grumbled, along with something about  _ kids these days. _

Pairo wrinkled his nose. "Gee, sir, you're a cold fish if I ever met one."

"Yeah," Kurapika huffed, lower lip curled in a pestered sneer. Then, a simper worked onto his labrum, and he sniggered.

"Quit being such a crummy downer, chrome dome."

And he firmly patted the poor bastard's bald head.

The sound was clearly enough for Pairo to register what happened, because he broke out in raucous laughter the second Kurapika did, childish giggles filling the back of the transport.

The man went comically red, and Kurapika was sure his mustache would have curled into an angry little demon if it could have.

"Why, you little—"

Before the man could make a grab for them, Kurapika grabbed Pairo by the arm and jumped both of them off the cable car, with a shouted "We'll be taking a powder, now!"

Their laughter echoed into the morning air as they ran fast and hard down the cobblestone sidewalk, panting impossibly hard between cackles and guffaws. They were, indeed, children at heart, and neither of them intended on denying that. The past had been dark, but liberation was making them both giddy, and that had them stuck with a case of contagious giggles, bouncing off of each other like ping-pong balls.

They finally slowed to a stop near a bookshop, and Kurapika glanced up, eyes twinkling once with intrigue.

"Why'd you stop? What is it?"

"A bookstore."

This time, Pairo tugged him inside.

—

The shop was warm and cozy, shielding them from any remnants of winter's chill that might have lurked outside. Mahogany bookshelves extended to the ceiling, stuffed full of classics and newcomers alike. The walls were a cream color, and the carpeted floor was a deep brown, a shade or two darker than the bookshelves. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafted vaguely through the air, and a stately young woman who did still happen to be shorter than Kurapika was adjusting a record player's needle onto a vinyl. A hat sat atop her head, platinum hair falling to her lower back over the cardigan she wore. As she turned, he noted she had a warm face, something maternal and gentle about her. Pairo gently tugged him around before stopping.

"Say something — I can't tell where you are, exactly."

"Right here."

On cue, Pairo's head turned to face him correctly, a smile forming on his face. "Okay. Um — hold on," he murmured thoughtfully, swinging his satchel to his front and opening it to dig through it, grasping at something that was clinking. When he pulled it out, it was a jar half full of coins, clearly saved up over the past couple years, after they'd devised the idea to leave.

"It's your birthday, so I want to give you something."

"Pairo—"

"You're not allowed to say no! I didn't save up for nothing," he insisted, odd determination surfacing on the plain of his usually pacifistic face. Of course, that happened when he was especially passionate about something, and, when it came to their bond, they both were serious about it.

So, as much as Kurapika's humble spirit wanted to protest, he knew it was no good.

"..Okay, okay."

In the silence, a woman's voice —  _ the  _ woman's voice — came through, soft like rose petals.

"Are you two looking for something particular?"

Classical music was filtering through the air as the two glanced at each other, and Pairo was the first to speak.

"Mm, not exactly — it's his birthday, so I guess we're just looking around for something he'd like."

"Why do you talk like I'm not standing next to y—"

"Shh."

_ Well,  _ Kurapika thought,  _ someone's bossy today. _

The woman's giggle of amusement came short and fluttering, barely there before it sailed off into the air and got lost in it. "Well, in that case — may I make a suggestion?"

Once again, before Kurapika could answer, Pairo assumed a stance over the situation, probably because he was too concerned about what impulsive Kurapika might blurt out.

"Sure!"

A smirk almost shaped his lips — Pairo acted cordial for a clever, cunning little weasel. Of course, he was polite, truly, but he wasn't above sneaky tricks for the greater good, and he was  _ good _ at it. Frighteningly good, almost.

"Then, might I suggest  _ A Tree Grows in Brooklyn? _ It came out last year from a lady called Betty Smith, and I think it's a lovely read. It's been very successful. An autobiography, it is; it's about the author's experience as an impoverished young girl in New York City, right near here."

Kurapika fell silent, a sense of kinship falling over him that forced his mouth shut. A story of a real person, written by that person, about struggles and tribulations — it was practically written for a young teen just newly turned a legal adult with a turbulent past. He could feel Pairo's gaze on him, and he blinked before nodding.

"I think that'd be good; I'll take it."

The woman smiled, and he noticed in the moment that her name tag read  _ Melody. _ It fit, he thought, with her inexplicably comforting aura and the gentle way she carried herself. She walked out from behind the counter, padding off to locate the book, surely. Before she did, she called for a  _ Leorio  _ to come tend to the payment, noting it might take her a moment to find it in the many shelves.

Kurapika and Pairo both sat patiently by the counter, in plush chairs supplied nearby. They were in tranquil quiet for a moment, the music and footsteps the only sounds, before the former of the two turned his head at the sound of a door swinging open, and the sight of a man coming out from it.

His heart nearly broke from his chest.


End file.
